Love Can Kill You
by TheCapillary
Summary: Molly's getting ready to pack up for college and questions what she's doing with her life when she discovers a memento from Nephlite. Short Story, three parts. Complete.
1. Part 1

Author's Note: I do not own Sailor Moon or any of its characters. I am doing this for fun and am making no profits from this. I have no monies to hand over, besides.

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"_I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life, the way I feel when I'm with you." _

_-Baby, from __**Dirty Dancing**__ (1987)_

Molly Baker pushed a strand of her red hair behind her ear as she taped up another box of her belongings. This box was another one she would take to the Cancer Research Donation shop, and it would be the fourth box this week. It was beginning to become easier to part with more and more of her belongings as she prepared for her move. Molly sighed as she lay down the tape gun beside the box.

The red head placed both hands on top of the box and closed her eyes before she whispered, "Goodbye. I hope you find a good home."

Molly got up and took the box with her to the kitchen where the rest of her donation boxes were waiting. Another pile of boxes were being stacked beside hers: Molly's mother became inspired to purge all of her closets when it had become clear Molly was going to be moving out. The same sort of mimicry happened when Molly started straightening her hair and became a vegetarian. It was as if copying her daughter helped Mrs. Baker cope with the changes that they both were experiencing.

When Molly had noticed this trend she had mentioned this to her boyfriend, Melvin Overstreet; he had told her that her mother was just trying to stay young and fresh: what better source of inspiration than her daughter? Molly didn't buy into that explanation: it didn't quite fit. Her mother was an attractive woman, especially for her age and was trendy in her own right.

Molly shook herself out of her thoughts and reminded herself that the boxes in her room weren't going to pack themselves. The red head walked through the hallway back to her room. The walls were lined with pictures of her at different ages. The last eighteen years of her life were captured in school photographs, yearend school gatherings, and birthday parties. Molly smiled as her eyes glanced over the familiar scenes and faces of smiling friends and family. The picture frame at the end of the hall held two photographs: one of Molly holding her high school diploma, and the other of Molly opening her acceptance letter for business school. Molly Baker was going to University for business starting September, and she was so excited to go.

But she drew in a sharp breath and closed her eye to try and stop herself from feeling homesick already. The university was a four hour drive away and Molly was only able to afford a room in shared student residence. Her mother had told her she could always come back to her old room, but that did little to comfort Molly: she knew she would be spending most of the year at school studying while sharing space with a total stranger. She wasn't sure how she and Melvin would manage their visits.

"The boxes aren't going to pack themselves." Molly reminded herself again and kept walking to her room.

Molly had already cleaned out her bedside table and large dresser; today she needed to tackle her closet. She couldn't recall the last time she had ever seen its floor, or if she had ever. Taking a deep breath she started by pulling everything on the hangers onto the floor behind her. The shelves were cleared next, and then all the boxes were cleared from the floor and the over head shelf and dumped onto the floor behind her. One of the boxes that had been stacked onto another fell, flipped on its side, and its contents spilled out over top the piles of clothes, books, shoes, posters. Molly stopped what she was doing and picked up the box that had opened, not wanting to have anything get too mixed up in the shuffle of moving.

She sat down in the middle of her room, and on several piles of clothes and boxes, when she recognized the box to be her memories box: a box of her favourite trinkets, sentimental card, and favourite pictures. Molly hadn't added anything to the box in over a year, and so had sort of forgotten about it. She smiled excitedly at her find, and pushed more hair behind her ear. Molly scooped up the contents that had fallen out and laughed at the pictures of herself and Serena. The picture was from the eighth grade when she and Serena used a photo booth for the first time. All pictures were so badly timed so both of their mouths were open in all the snapshots. Molly scooped up two concert tickets from the ground next. They were tickets to her favourite band of all time. Molly suddenly felt sad for having taken down the poster from her wall already. She had gone for her sixteenth birthday with Satomi and at the concert had tried to smoke a cigarette for the first time. But she had managed to burn her lips so bad she hadn't touched one since.

A picture of her and her father had also fallen out. It was the only picture she had of him, and possibly the only picture of him left in the house. She knew his death had been hard on her mother, and spent the majority of Molly's life trying to keep it together. All Molly had ever known of his death was a car accident on a rainy night when she had been a baby. Or so her mother had said, once. The red head's expression became somber: she had never known her father, she never missed his presence, and she guessed that her mother must feel his loss every day. How could she not? Her mother had married him, promised to be with him forever, one wouldn't do that unless it was your soul mate. Molly's thoughts drifted to Melvin, and she absently wondered if she would miss him if he died.

"Of course you would." She said aloud, disgusted with herself for thinking something like that.

Irritated with herself, Molly quickly gathered up the remaining items and stood up, box in the other hand. Molly quickly tossed the contents of both hands onto the bed: she would deal with that later. Molly started to pull out more items from her closet, almost angrily, and took less care when dumping items onto the middle of her room. Once she was finished with that task she started opening boxes and dumping their contents onto the floor. She ripped clothes from the hangers but began to find that difficult when her hands began to shake. Frustrated she threw her shirt with its hanger back into the closet and sat down in the middle of the floor, back facing her bed. She took a deep breath after a few moments of clenching her fists. Molly slowly turned her head towards the bed where her memory box lay, and the bandage.

Nephlite's bandage.

Melvin had given it back to her after she had used it to tie up a cut on his arm. She owed it to him to look after him, after Melvin had saved her life from an attack from a strange creature. She didn't understand why he had given the bandage back to her, or why she had kept it.

She and Melvin had been an item officially for several weeks when he had given the bandage back to her. Molly had kept it close by her for the first few days: slept with it on her pillow, kept it in her purse, and kept it folded it in her day planner. Molly had gone into such a funk that she had considered breaking up with Melvin that week. It hadn't felt right at that moment to be with him. She might as well had broken it off the way she had ignored his messages and phone calls. Lunch break at school had become very awkward along with study groups. At the end of the week Melvin had come over to her house and broke down crying.

"I thought you had moved on from **him**." Melvin had said, woeful and not looking at Molly.

"I did." Molly had replied.

"I don't think so. Since I gave you the bandage back you're walking around like a zombie, just like when he died." Melvin said.

"Well, he didn't die all that long ago." Molly had said curtly.

"But you said—"

"I know what I said."

Molly and Melvin had sat in silence next to each other on her bed. It had felt like ages before either of them moved. Tears had been running down Melvin's face since the silence began.

_What is he waiting for? Why doesn't he just dump me? I'm treating him bad enough._ Molly had wondered silently, but she had known the answer: Melvin had been waiting for her to dump him.

_Coward, _she almost spat at him.

Surprising even herself, Molly had gotten up and taken the bandage from her pillow and placed it in her box, her memory box. Molly had neither explained herself nor apologized for what had transpired. Melvin must have anticipated the heartache that would have ensued from his actions, from giving the bandage back, otherwise he would have demanded an explanation, or brought the incident. But he never did, and seemed content enough for Nephlite's memento to be a memory.

Now, after not thinking about Nephlite for over a year it seemed everything, every emotion, and every memory came rushing back to her. It wasn't long before Molly found herself sobbing on the floor, just like when he had just been killed.

"Oh Nephlite! Why aren't you here?" Molly sobbed.

She hadn't wanted to give in, to reach out to the strip of cloth as if he was sitting on her bed, but it was the only action she could think of that would provide her with some comfort. She gathered the cloth in her fist and she brought it to her chest as she continued to sob, "I miss you Nephlite, I miss you so much."

Molly felt so torn: how could she still feel Nephlite's emptiness when she had Melvin? Her anguish turned into guilt as she felt Melvin's affections were undeserved for her disloyalty. Melvin was a good boyfriend, but she never ever felt for him the same way she had felt herself pulled towards Nephlite. Molly had always suspected that her feelings for Nephlite could have been because he had cast a spell over her when they had me. How else could still feel so strongly for Nephlite, and feel the pain of his passing so greatly years later?

"It's not fair!" she sobbed, "I want to see you again."

It wasn't fair that she was in love with a dead man, that her boyfriend was in love with her and that love was never going to be reciprocated, and that someone like her friend Serena found her true love at sixteen and was going to get married next year to him.

Molly sobbed for several more minutes on her bedroom floor before finally quieting down. The tears had continued to fall down her face and she continued to clutch Nephlite's bandage to her chest. She tried to picture his face and hair; she tried to remember what he smelled like, or what it had felt like to be carried in his arms.

_Were his eyes blue or green?_ _I can't remember! _Tightness gripped her chest as she couldn't really recall any of these details.

Molly looked around her room, the empty closet, the mess on the floor, and the half packed boxes through bleary eyes. She suddenly didn't feel so sure she could go on with the move anymore: there were too mnay memories she still wanted to keep suddenly.

The phone rang, making Molly jump. She scrambled to her feet and wiped the tears from her face hastily, as if the person on the other end would be able to tell how hard she had been crying. Molly cleared her throat before she picked up the phone down the hall from her bedroom.

"Hello?" Molly asked, wincing at how unsteady her voice sounded.

"Oh hi hun." Molly's mother replied, "I'm running a bit late from my meeting. You mind taking the pork out of the freezer and running to the store to pick up some orange juice?"

"Sure thing." Molly replied, "See you later."

"Thanks hun, see you!"

Molly sighed with relief when her mother hung up. She was glad her mother hadn't drawn attention to the awkwardness in her voice. The red head looked briefly at Nephlite's bandage and wondered how something like this could have happened; she had been doing so well for years; kept it together so long just for it all to slip away. She was about to move on to the next stage in her life and now found herself caught in one from long ago.

Molly sat in her usual spot at the small dinner table: directly across from her mother. She poked at the meat and vegetables with her utensils and half-heartedly listened to her mother fill the silence about her all day meeting. Molly hadn't volunteered too much about her day. When her mother finally asked her if she was feeling alright Molly replied that she did indeed feel unwell and needed to lie down. Mrs. Baker looked disappointed but said nothing as Molly put her plate full of food in the fridge and walked to her room. She shut the door behind her and threw herself onto her bed, feeling exhausted.

The red head rolled onto her side and pulled the bandage out from inside her shirt. It felt so wrong to be parted from it now, and she wondered how she was ever able to part with it in the first place. The bandage was simply a strip of material torn off from her PJ's so she felt a little foolish for making such a big deal about remembering Nephlite. But it was the only thing she had to remind her of him. She had no pictures, no shirt, no teddy, and no gift from Nephlite. Nothing.

Molly heard the phone ring in the hall. She glanced at the clock, reading that it was close to nine: the time that Melvin made time in his schedule for her. Daily. The call from her mother to pick up the phone didn't happen immediately. Perhaps it wasn't Melvin. Unconcerned, Molly rolled over in bed, not caring if she fell asleep or not.

"Molly!" her mother called, "It's Melvin! Pick up the phone!"

Drowsy, Molly thought the delay was curious, but voiced no complaint as she dragged herself out of bed and down the hall.

"Hello." Molly spoke into the mouthpiece of the phone.

"Hey Mol, how are you?" Melvin's voice pierced through the earpiece, using the nickname Serena had given to her in junior high.

Molly winced and replied, "Fine" after a pause Molly added, "How was your day?"

"Oh, busy as usual. Our study group went through the whole physics textbook again. I should be able to pass the exam next week and skip the intro class for my programme."

"I'm sure you'll do well Melvin."

"Hey Mol, I was thinking we could go to the movies tonight. I haven't seen you all week."

Molly sighed, quietly, before replying, "Oh, maybe another night. I'm not feeling well and I'm tired from packing all day."

"You want me to come over? I can be there in an hour."

"No, that's alright Melvin. I think I just need to get to bed early tonight."

"Ok Molly. I hope you'll feel better tomorrow."

"So do I. Goodnight."

"Goodnigt Molly, sweet dreams."

"Thank you."

A pause. Molly wanted to put down the phone but she waited, seeing if Melvin would hang up first. He was probably waiting for her to do the same.

"OK Mol, love you." Melvin finally added. Molly winced, knowing she should have hung up the first second she could have.

"You too." she mumbled before placing he phone back in its cradle.

She sighed, relaxing her shoulders. Molly was surprised to find herself so tense from a routine phone call. She was also surprised she couldn't tell her boyfriend she loved him tonight. They had been saying those three words for awhile, and hadn't had a fight for long time. So why couldn't she say those words? The red head realized her hand was clenched into a fist. She looked down at it and saw the bandage, Nephlite's bandage, gripped in her hand.

_You know the answer..._ a voice said in the back of Molly's mind as she relaxed her grip.

Molly shook her head, too tired to make sense of the situation. She started towards her bedroom, body sluggish and eyelids drooping. Molly just wanted to go to bed and sleep for a very long time.

Molly's alarm buzzed incessantly for the third time that morning. She cracked her eyes open again to look at the time: 7:12 AM, she promptly shut them. She began to work out how many more times she could hit snooze before she would have to start skipping out on hygenic basics. The answer Molly came up with was zero.

She sighed heavily as she rolled out of bed, and with a flailing arm shut off her alarm. After her morning routine Molly dragged herself to the kitchen for a bowl of porridge and a tea. Her mother was already up and dressed to kill, reading the morning paper.

"Morning darling, how did you sleep?" her mother asked cheerfully, looking up from the paper.

"Fine."

"You feeling better this morning?"

"A little."

"I hope you don't have anything serious. Are you ok to keep packing today?"

"I'm fine."

Molly leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting for the porridge to finish cooking in the microwave. Uncomfortable silence followed her answer despite the whirring of the microwave. She could tell her mother wanted to ask more questions, but Molly's grim expression most likely prevented her mother from making any further attempts. The microwave beeped, but Molly didn't move to get her porridge and stared blankly at the floor, tea cup in hand.

"Is there something on your mind dear?" Molly's mother asked, though the forced sound of concern came through in her voice.

Molly opened her mouth to answer then closed it, unsure of how to answer. When no reply came Mrs. Baker shrugged and turned back to reading the paper.

"Do you still miss Dad?" Molly asked.

Her mother stiffened instantly and her eyebrows rose so high they nearly moved off her forehead. Only a few heart beats passed, but time felt like it slowed to a crawl: Molly held her breath for the answer. She had no idea what kind of can of worms she had opened.

"Your father... I... it's a shame your father isn't here to see you. Now. All grown up." Her mother replied, keeping her eyes on the newspaper.

"Do you miss him? Do you still think about him?"

Her mother turned her gaze from the paper and looked directly at Molly, "I didn't really know him Molly dear: I was so young."

"What do you mean?"

"I was wondering when you'd ask about your father, but I figured if you hadn't asked by now you never would."

Mrs. Baker sighed and folded the paper into its original shape and placed it on the table.

"I don't understand." Molly said.

"Your father and I met when we were eighteen. It was a whirlwind affair that ended up with me pregnant and a shot gun wedding. We had only known each other a few months." Molly's mother explained, not looking at Molly, "And we didn't really get along later you were born. It was a curse and a blessing when he passed away. Our families are still trying to live down the embarrassment of two young adults not able to control themselves."

Molly's jaw dropped at her mother's answer, _I was an accident?_

"So yes, I think about your father because I see a lot of him in you. But no, I don't miss him."

Molly could feel her heart beating inside her chest louder and louder, "That's it?"

"It's not very romantic, is it?" her mother replied.

The red head placed her tea cup on the counter next to her and folded her hands in front of her: her mother didn't miss her father. Her mother didn't love her father?

"Were you ever in love?" Molly asked incredulously.

"Where are all these questions coming from? Are you and Melvin planning something?" her mother asked; again, the sincerity sounded forced.

"What? No, mom. I just- I- I don't know. You've never really talked to me about Dad, or falling in love, or romance to me. You only ever talk about it to your customers in the store."

"Because it doesn't' exist, darling. People's affection can be bought with shiny rocks and metals, that's why my business does so well. When it comes right down to it, none of the lovers that come through my doors would die for the other." her mother said standing up and straightening her dress, "I guess that's why I'm glad you're with Melvin. He doesn't have a single romantic bone in his body. But he's loyal, faithful, and you get along, so I think you'll be able to grow old with him and have a good life."

Molly couldn't help but stare at her mother and continue to feel shocked at her words. She had never known her mother to be so cold and cynical, especially not about love. What kind of world had she been creating? Had her mother become a false person in trying to keep her life, and Molly's, together?

"I'm sorry darling, but I need to go open the store now." her mother said, walking out of the kitchen, leaving Molly standing against the counter.

Molly's gaze followed her mother out the door, and she waited until the clicking of heels disappeared into the store before collapsing onto the kitchen floor. There was a pressure in the middle of her chest she couldn't explain. It hurt, but no tears came from Molly's eyes. She simply held her chest with one hand, where Nephlite's bandage rested.

_Doesn't exist?_


	2. Part 2

Molly lay in her bed, wide awake. The last time she checked the clock was 2:00 AM. She hadn't slept a wink since she put her head on her pillow at 10:30pm. She tried closing her eyes and counting backwards from fifty. That didn't help so she tried to count backwards from fifty by two's. That didn't help either.

The red head tried to imagine herself floating in water, and the water lapping around her body as a soothing motion. But the mental exercise backfired on her as she focused in on the ticking of the clock just outside her bedroom. She had never realized how loud the clock could be.

So she lay in her bed, straight as a board and unmoving, while listening to the sounds around her. Many thoughts swirled around in her mind, but she tried not to entertain them. Thoughts of her mother and father, her and Melvin, Darien and Serena, and Nephlite, always Nephlite.

_No. Stop thinking about Nephlite. Go to sleep. You have to be up in five hours._ She ordered herself, but it did no good: the more she tried not to think about him, the more she did.

Her mother's words that morning had cut deep into her, and had turned her world on its head. Not only had she revealed the situation of Molly's conception, but also revealed a very bitter and jaded side of her mother she had never even guessed to exist. The foundation Molly had built her beliefs and values on seemed to have been fostered by the omission of facts. She knew they weren't out right lies, but it almost felt the same.

Molly put her hand on her stomach, where the elastic of pajama pants came to, and felt Nephlite's bandage, a strip of cloth from her old pajamas, tucked into the top. Her day had been spent recalling their encounters: the tennis court, the royal ball, the Tuxedo Mask invitation, and then finally the park. She was having difficulty remembering the details after having made a point for so long not to remember anything at all. Molly tried to recall what she saw in Nephlite and what made her think that he had been a good man.

Abruptly, Molly sat up in bed, the tightness in her chest suddenly taking hold of her: it felt like a large hand had been wrapped around her chest and was squeezing the breath out of her. It had always happened when Nephlite was around all those years ago, and it was happening again now...

"I guess I really never moved on..." Molly said.

Tears started to form in her eyes, and she could feel the tension around her chest lessen with each tear that made its way down her cheek.

"I never moved on..."

Molly swung her legs over the edge of her bed and got out of bed. She made her way to the phone in the kitchen. She had a cell phone of her own, but she had to be frugal with it as it came out of her own pocket. The light under her mother's door way off, which typically meant she was asleep, making the coast clear to the kitchen.

She dialed a number she had memorized since she was six years old: Serena Tsukino's. Molly prayed Serena would be the one to answer the phone, just like she had always.

"Hello?" came a sleepy voice.

"Serena?" Molly replied in a loud whisper.

"Molly!"

"Serena."

"It's two-thirty in the morning, is everything alright? Did you and Melvin have a fight?" Serena's voice came through louder than Molly had expected.

"Not so loud Serena, you're going to wake the whole neighbourhood up."

"Sorry!"

Molly sighed into the phone's receiver: she felt an inkling of regret for having called Serena so late. The red head told herself she should have left it until morning. Or just have forgotten about it all together.

"What's wrong Molly?" Serena asked again, this time a few decibels less.

"Do you... Do you remember when we were fourteen?" Molly asked, "Do you remember dreaming about falling in love?"

"Yeah...?"

"Do you remember when we thought that's all we wanted to do? Just fall in love and life would be good?"

"Yeah...?"

"Is life good Serena? Is this the life we've always dreamed of?" Molly asked, bursting into tears.

"Oh Molly, what's wrong? I don't understand what you're trying to say. You know me and my meatball head." Serena replied.

Molly took a deep breath to calm herself before asking, "Are you in love Serena? Are you still in love with Darien?"

"Of course I am, Molly." Serena replied, "Did you have a fight with Melvin? Did Melvin want to dump you?"

"No, nothing like that." Molly replied.

She took several more deep breaths to keep herself calm, but had only moderate success.

"I don't know, Serena, I can't help but feel like I'm making a mistake with my life. Like, this isn't the life I was dreaming about when I was fourteen." Molly explained.

"Oh Molly."

"I feel like I've been living a lie for years now. And even though I'm moving and going to University, I don't feel like that's going to change how I feel about my life."

"Maybe... Maybe that's what you're afraid of?" Serena suggested, "Maybe you're afriad of moving and going to University that you're second guessing yourself?"

"That's not it, Serena..."

Both young women sat on their ends of the phone in silence. Molly knew Serena was struggling to say something kind and supportive. Serena had always been that sort of a friend, always loyal, even if she didn't quite understand what was going on, and even though they had drifted apart considerably since Junior High. Despite her outward air head nature Molly knew Serena could put the pieces together. Eventually. Serena had more pieces she could put together that most, and Molly knew this because she knew Serena's secret.

Serena suspected that Molly knew her secret, and Molly had suspected Serena's secret for a long while, thought neither of them had ever brought it up. But the red head wanted to bring up Serena's secret now because her friend had been there when Nephlite had been killed. Molly was beginning to become a little puzzled as to why Serena wasn't saying anything about it. Molly didn't really think her friend was that dense.

"Serena, I'm sorry I called." Molly finally said.

"No, Molly, wait. Something's wrong, I understand that. I just don't understand what is bothering you."

"It's OK Serena, I'll be OK."

"Does this..." Molly her Serena start uneasy over the phone, "Does this have anything to do with someone who was killed four years ago?"

Molly said nothing and bit her lip, unsure of how answer. Now that the moment had come, she didn't know if she could really say what was bothering her.

"I don't know Serena. I just... I just feel like the direction my life is going is wrong. And I don't know which way it's supposed to go either." Molly said, a tear rolling down her cheek, "I don't think I'm strong enough to make a change either."

"Did Melvin ask you to marry him?" Serena asked.

"What? No. Why does everybody keep asking me that?"

As soon as Molly finished her sentence it dawned on her why people were asking her lately, "Oh Serena, he's going to propose isn't he?"

"I'm not supposed to say anything..." Serena replied.

"Oh no, this is horrible!" Molly said.

Her legs began to feel weak again and she slid on the kitchen floor, clutching the phone's receiver. On top of everything, Molly felt rather queasy as well.

"Really Molly? Melvin's not a bad guy, would it be really that horrible?" Serena said, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"Yes," Molly replied, bursting into another round of tears, "Because I don't think I love him. And my mother said that was a good thing, because real love doesn't exist."

"Oh Molly! That's a horrible thing for your mother to say." Serena said, "Of course love exists!"

"I don't know anymore, Serena. It doesn't feel the same like it did. Now that I know what Melvin wants to do, I realize I don't want the same thing."

"What do you want?" Serena asked quietly.

Molly took a few deeps breaths to calm some of her sobbing before replying, "To feel like I used to? I don't know Serena, I can't put it in words. When I see you and Darien, I get jealous. Whatever you have with Darien I don't have with Melvin. I had it once, but not with Melvin. I had with someone who died..."

"Nephlite?" Serena asked, sounding surprised.

"Yes." Molly replied.

"Molly, he died years ago."

"I know. But the way I felt with him, I've never felt again for anybody else."

"Oh."

"I can't marry Melvin, Serena, especially I know you can bring people back to life. You could bring Nephlite back to life." Molly finally blurted out.

"I can't bring people back to life." Serena said slowly.

"Yes you can, I know you're Sailor Moon, and I know there's a lot you can do. I've seen you make miracles!"

"Molly, you don't know what you're asking of me."

"Please, Serena, please. I just want to see Nephlite again, just once." Molly pleaded.

"I'm sorry Molly, I'm so sorry."

"Please, you were there. I know you understand. Please, Serena, I just want to see him again."

"Even if I could Molly, what would you say to him? It's been four years, and you're such a different person now."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Molly really, what would you say to him? What would have to talk about with him? What would he see in you? Nephlite was a general of the Negaverse, he would know how to do anything else."

Molly's sobs quickly faded into silence. Molly could hear that Serena's voice was filled with concern, but couldn't help but be in total shock at Serena's words.

"...Molly?" Serena asked when Molly didn't respond.

"I'm here."

Again, both fell into silence filled with tension. Molly couldn't believe Serena would say those words. Serena had Darien, and she wanted to keep that sort of love all to herself? How could Serena claimed that love existed if she didn't want her friend to have the same in her life?

"Molly, say something?"

"Was that Serena or Sailor Moon talking?" Molly asked, a little more sharply than she had anticipated.

"Molly, you know Nephlite was dangerous and a liar. Do you think that's any way to build a relationship?"

"But he had a good heart, I know he did. I could feel it."

"Did he have that change of heart because he knew he was going to die?"

Molly was more taken aback by her friend's words again. They had never spoken so openly about the incident, but they were arguing now as if it only happened a few days ago. Serena's arguments were shockingly thought out and logical. Molly knew her friend always had had it in her, but to argue with her now? About this? Didn't Serena understand how she felt?

Molly wiped her eyes, but the constant flow of tears kept her eyes damp, "So you won't help me?"

"Molly, I can't help you. I'm sorry..." Serena said, "I wouldn't know where to begin."

"I'm sorry Serena, for calling so late." Molly said quickly before placing the receiver in its cradle.

Molly didn't move for several minutes following her conversation with Serena. She simply stared at the phone, unsure of what to think, or what to do next. She looked at the clock, though how late it was didn't seem to phase her. Molly didn't feel like she was fully awake anyway, nor did she truly feel sleepy. Habit took her back to her bedroom to lie down in her bed, and wiping tears from her face as she went.

Her cell phone flashed several times, indicating that she had received a text message, and then vibrated, indicating that another message arrived. Molly made no move to look at or answer those messages. She assumed they were from Serena, but she didn't want to talk to her anymore; what else were each of them supposed to say on the matter?

Mrs. Baker, her mother, insisted love doesn't exist. Serena, Sailor Moon, insisted love does exist, but wasn't willing to help Molly find it again.

Sleep continued to elude Molly as she lay in her bed, curled around one of her pillows. Her thoughts invariably turned to Nephlite, and how she missed him. Serena's questions wormed itself into her thoughts as well and Molly had to ask herself: what would she do if she did meet Nephlite again? Did he really only have a change of heart because he had been facing his own death? ...Would he want to see her again if he did come back from the dead? Molly hesitated asking herself if she really did miss Nephlite or if she simply missed how she felt around him.

Another one of Serena's questions echoed in Molly's mind, "What do you want?"

Molly touched the bandage tucked into her pj's and felt her stomach sink. She felt like crying again, but her body couldn't produce anymore tears or sobs. She felt torn between wanting something she couldn't have, and having something she didn't want.

_What are you going to do about it?_ A voice in the back of Molly's mind asked.

_Nothing._

_Why?_

_There's nothing I can do._

_There's more than one way to be together._

_But he can't come to me, and I want him._

_Then go to him._

_How?_

_You know how._

"How?" Molly asked aloud to no one.

Her mind produced no further responses, but Molly carefully turned over the phrase, "Then go to him."

_The only way I can be with him is if I die..._ Molly pondered, _I need to die._

The notion didn't frighten Molly the way it had immediately following Nephlite's death. It had been the first time she had ever encountered death and the uncertainty of an afterlife had frightened her. Molly had, in a way, blamed herself for Nephlite's death: she knew she had hindered him during his escape, and distracted him during battle by being incapable of defending herself. After he had sacrificed himself for saving her, she felt guilty for wanting to die herself, just to be with him, just to see him once more. But she had told herself his death would have been in vain, though it never lessened the pain of his loss. But Molly didn't feel guiltyany longer for entertaining the idea that there was perhaps an afterlife and she could meet him there.

Molly felt a sort of calm wash over her as she came to her conclusion. She felt comfortable that her death was the only way to make things right. She had given this life an honest try without Nephlite: she had tried very hard to move on, but none of it felt as right as her jumping off a bridge to her death and knowing that he would be there to greet her.

"Nephlite, it's my turn to die for you." Molly whispered as her eyes closed, finally falling asleep.


	3. Part 3

_I'll share with you if you share with me  
I always want to hear what's on your mind  
And from the other side, can you still answer me?  
Because I live to speak what's on my heart _

_- _**BT**, "Forget Me"

Molly sat in the park on one of the benches. She shifted uncomfortably on the recycled plastic plank. The sun was starting to make its way towards the horizon, but Molly didn't check her watch: It would still be a while before Melvin would be finished with his study group. The packing Molly had planned to do for the last several days didn't happen. She had found herself pacing in her room or sitting on her bed, staring out the window more than sorting through books and clothes. She hadn't looked at Nephlite's bandage all day, though she had kept it tucked inside her shirt, next to her heart.

Of all the people walking through the park none of them sat next to her. They never asked if she minded sharing, and any of them that would look her way would quickly look away and walk past. It was as if they knew she was hurting and didn't want to get too close, in case the pain might be catching.

Molly had spent the following day after her conversation with Serena avoiding Melvin. She knew he would start to contact her mother soon to convince her to speak to Molly to speak to Melvin. The only thing Molly could do was shake her head at Melvin: he'd speak to her mother instead of going to her house directly and knock on the door.

_But then that would interfere with his studies..._ Molly thought absently.

So she spent the next day out of the house so her mother couldn't go to her room and simply hand her the phone. Though the looks Mrs. Baker shot at Molly when she had come home that evening made her feel bad enough to finally call Melvin and speak to him. He had sounded close to tears that Molly asked if he'd like to meet her in the park for an afternoon. Melvin brightened slightly, but informed her that he had a study group and could only meet her in the evening.

Molly had tried to keep the waves of bitterness and resentment at bay. The red head reminded herself of her resolve, of what her plan was, and she could hang up the phone without slamming it down. Molly wondered if she would have reconsidered her plan if Melvin had come over straight away, or skipped his study session.

She had tried to continue packing that morning but had given up fairly quickly. She wouldn't need any of her possessions when she joins Nephlite, and even if she did need anything she wouldn't know how to take any of it with her. Molly skipped out on productivity and went to the park as soon as her mother left the house.

Now that she was sitting on the park bench she didn't feel like she had the same resolve as she had a few days previous. Molly started to think that maybe she was going a bit too far and she was being foolish. Perhaps her mother was partially right: people do foolish things for love. But then why do people strive so hard to keep finding it? Why would Serena fight so hard to be with Dariend for the rest of her life if love didn't exist? What other words would describe how she still felt for Nephlite? And what he did for her? He died for her, to protect her. Molly would have done the same thing for him, in a heartbeat. If she had had the strength and the magic Sailor Moon or Nephlite had, she would use it to bring him back to life or turn back time to trade places with Nephlite.

Molly could feel tears start to form in the corners of her eyes. She blinked them as best she could while she searched her handbag for a tissue. Molly dabbed her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. She wasn't sure why she had bothered with it after she had called Melvin to tell him to meet her in the park. They had been going out long enough that she didn't really feel the need to wear it except on date nights. And those so rarely happened anymore.

The sun was nearly touching the horizon before Melvin came walking through the park. Molly still sat motionless, lost in her own thoughts. She hadn't noticed her own boyfriend until he sat down next to her, hands on his knees.

"Oh Melvin, hi." Molly said, startled.

"How was your day?" Melvin asked, worry creased his brow

"It was ok. I didn't get much packing done." Molly replied, adjusting her posture.

"I can't wait until next week. We scheduled a study break day for physics. Which is good. I need to look at my chemistry a little more. And I got the new Gundam DVD in the mail. We can watch it together." Melvin said.

Molly had felt her disappointment increase with every sentence Melvin spoke. There had been no kiss on the cheek, no holding of her hand, no asking her what she would like to do with him. Had their relationship always been that way?

_Even old married couples hold hands..._ Molly thought as she slumped back onto the bench and watched the sunset.

It should have been a romantic moment: her sitting with her boyfriend in a park and watching the sun set together. Molly felt the furthest things from romantic.

"Molly?" Melvin asked after several minutes of silence.

"Melvin." Molly started, not really aware of how much time had passed since Melvin had finished talking about himself.

"Is something wrong Molly?"

Finally turning to face Melvin, Molly asked, "Would you die for me?"

Melvin's eyes filled with confusion at her question: he raised his eyebrows when he asked, "What's this about? What's going on?"

"Please, can you answer my question?"

"I would do anything for you."

"But, would you **die** for me?" Molly repeated.

"I guess so, yeah." Melvin replied, breaking eye contact with Molly.

Out of the corner of her eye Molly could see Melvin's feet begin to tap: a nervous habit Molly had picked up on.

_I guess so yeah._ Melvin's answer reated in Molly's mind.

_Nephlite saved my life without thinking about. Without guessing._ Molly looked back out at the sunset and continued her train of thought, _Melvin saved me once without thinking, and now he can't tell me if he'd do it again?_

"Molly, what's going on? Tell me." Melvin said, almost begging.

She turned to face him and inhaled deeply before replying, "Melvin, I think we need to breakup."

"Molly no!" Melvin cried, and after a moment of hesitation, "I love you!"

"I know, Melvin."

Molly felt calm, surprising even herself. She looked at her hands, briefly; they weren't shaking either. Instead, she felt light, relieved, like shackles had been removed.

Melvin reached out and grabbed her hands from her lap fiercely, "No Molly, I **really** love you."

Molly nodded, "I know."

"Please, please don't break up with me. I need you." Melvin pleaded.

"I have to Melvin, I have to." Molly said, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize. You just have to stay with me."

Molly shook her head, "I can't."

Molly felt the tears fall down her cheeks: the goodbye was starting to feel bittersweet. She didn't want to hurt Melvin, and it pained her to see him falling in front of her. But it pained her just as much to stay with Melvin, and keep living the life they had created. A life she had created on her mother's omitted facts and half truths.

"I'm so sorry for breaking your heart. I'm so sorry for springing this on you. And..." Molly said, "I'm so sorry that I've never loved you the same way you've loved me."

Melvin's speechless expression of devastation nearly made Molly reconsider her actions. She had never seen a person so hurt or devastated before and she could hardly believe it was all because of her. But when she placed a hand over he heart and felt Nephlite's bandage against her skin she gathered the courage to finally stand. Melvin's hand grasped for her hand but Molly pulled it away as she turned. If she looked at him any longer she wasn't sure if her resolve would remain.

Molly's first few steps were unsteady as she got up from the bench, but they more steps she took the more fluid they became and her feet no longer felt like stumps. Molly walked past the bus stop that would take her home, and the next bus stop that could have taken her home, and the next. She made her way to the bus station that would take her to the second largest bridge of the city.

It crossed over one of the rivers that fed into the ocean, and prettier than most because it was built in a residential area instead of a commercial or industrial area. Molly could see all the details in her mind as she sat on the bus. She smiled to herself as she remembered wanting to take Nephlite for a walk across the bridge once and through the parks on either side. It was a silly romantic fantasy she had had when Nephlite was still alive, sort of out like the chocolate parfait idea that she always wanted to do. With Melvin going for a chocolate parfait had just never been romantic, but she wa sure with Nephlite it could have been. The bus pulled up to the stop at the park leading to the bridge: Molly could see it from her seat on the bus. It was a breathtaking image for Molly that she nearly forgot to get off the bus.

As she walked through the park, Molly felt a sort of calm envelope her again. For the first time since she had met Nephlite, Molly didn't feel the unrepentent sense of longing that he had produced in her four years ago. There was only one thing she wanted now, and she was going to get it.

_Four long years..._

Molly breathed with great relief as the bridge came into view. It looked beautiful with the last of the sun setting on the horizon behind it and the city lights glowing above. Molly pulled Nephlite's bandage out of her shirt as her foot made contact with the bridge. Molly walked to the middle of the bridge and stopped, leaning over the railing. The light's reflections twinkled on the water's surface. She held the bandage to her cheek and could almost feel Nephlite's hand there where she had placed the cloth.

"Oh Nephlite." Molly said, a small smile came to her lips.

Molly tucked the bandage into her shirt again, and for a moment, Molly thought she could smell Nephlite, as if he was standing just behind her. She felt tempted to turn around and see if he was standing there. But Molly kept her eyes forward, and her mind on her goal: she knew she would see him only afterwards.

"Nephlite, I miss you. All these years I tried to put you behind me, but I couldn't. I ended up living a lie," Molly whispered, out past the bridge's railing.

Nephlite's scent seemed to become stronger, and it felt as if he was putting his hands on her sholders. Still, Molly didn't let that deter her. There were few people walking on the opposite side of the bridge, and only a handful of cars drove by. Molly paid no attention to the passerby's, she took hold of the railing and climbed to stand on top of it. Molly heard a few surprised cries and a car stop, suddenly, tires squealing.

"Nephlite, I love you. You died for me, I don't know why, because I would have rather you lived. I would have died for you then, and I would still die for you today." Molly continued speaking, but at a slightly louder volume.

"Miss? Miss!" a man's voice called from behind her.

"Nephlite..." Stronger scent, "I don't know how to bring you back to me, so I'm going to have to get close to you."

"Miss, do you need help?" a young woman asked.

"Are you alright?" the man asked again, "Miss?"

She took a deep breath, looking out at the river again, "Nephlite," Molly said, "It's my turn to die for you now."

As Molly leaped off the bridge, she felt someone kiss her cheek. She knew instantly it was Nephlite, and as she fell, she fell with a smile.


End file.
